


The Best Gifts Come Unwrapped

by Thevina



Category: Slave Breakers - maculategiraffe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 14:46:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2511491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thevina/pseuds/Thevina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holden and Yves christen a new piece of equipment in the training room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Gifts Come Unwrapped

**Author's Note:**

> I loved [this particular story](http://maculategiraffe.livejournal.com/37338.html#cutid1) with Yves, Bran and a suspension sling so much that I wanted to write a gap-filler set early in Yves' time with Holden when he first bought said sling. There's verbiage at the end of the story to do with good investments which is also a nod to a recent story in the 'verse Ms. Giraffe wrote. Dear, I admire your writing and this world. I hope that you and any of your fans who drop by enjoy this gift to you!!

Yves hummed to himself as he approached the house, hefting the sacks filled with the foodstuffs he'd been sent to buy at the markets. While he did greatly enjoy being out in the world, bandying words with the vendors he'd gotten to know over the past year, he always felt a level of anxiety peel away from him once his master's house was in sight. He couldn't have conceived of serving a master who trusted him so implicitly, who had set down rules which were logical and, most astonishing of all, enforced by love, not power. He was truly fortunate, and Yves knew it. Just a few days ago Holden had bought two books for him, dense, well-written tomes. One was on philosophy and the other was a comprehensive history of their part of the country. He'd had no idea of the various historic tribes and their warfare, their religious beliefs and how they'd evolved to the practices and gods familiar to him.

He let himself into the house, smiling as the lock slid back and he pushed open the door. The kitchen was empty. He put the sacks on the counter and began methodically to put the various items in their expected locations.

"Yves?" Holden's voice emanated from the vicinity of a nearby staircase. "Is that you?"

"Yes, master," Yves called out, abandoning his task and striding toward the sound of his master's feet bouncing down the stairs.

"Yves, sweetheart!" Holden said, beaming, as he enfolded the surprised slave in a strong embrace, and then kissed him insistently on the mouth.

Yves responded in kind, his enthusiasm genuine. After a few moments of voracious tongue-tangling, Holden pulled back, delight dancing in his eyes.

"I have a surprise to share," he said, a prurient smile gliding onto his lips.

"A surprise?" Yves repeated, his pulse speeding up a bit. His master had never presented him with a surprise that had been unpleasant, but a sliver of memory from prior masters would resurface whenever Holden introduced a new element to his life or slave responsibilities.

"Yes, darling, and I've no doubt you'll enjoy it as much as I've imagined you will," he said, nuzzling against Yves' neck, then nibbling on his earlobe.

Yves let out a low moan of pleasure. Holden loved hearing Yves' verbal expressions and had told him to be as uninhibited vocally as he wished, unless otherwise bidden.

"You've been imagining me enjoying this surprise, master?" Yves asked, his voice roughened by his master's attentions to his sensitive ear.

"I certainly have. Come with me to the training room."

Yves couldn't help himself; he stiffened just for an instant before his training kicked in and he forced himself to relax.

"What's wrong?" Holden asked, stepping back from Yves to look at him, concern darkening his eyes. "This isn't a punishment, I promise you. You know I'd never punish you without explaining why and letting you choose the implement." He drew his finger along Yves' cheek and his downcast face, gently encouraging Yves to look up when Holden pressed underneath his chin. "Right?"

"Yes, master," Yves said softly. "I'm sorry, it was unexpected, that's all. Of course I want to see anything you wish to share with me."

"Gorgeous, delectable, sensuous creature," Holden purred, cupping Yves' jaw before placing a firm but chaste kiss to his lips. "By Sif, I wake up every day grateful that you're mine."

The flush started at the base of Yves' throat and he felt its traitorous creep upwards. "Master," he began, thinking he would tell him the gratitude was reciprocated, but then he stopped. He would tell him that later, after this surprise. "You're very generous," Yves murmured instead.

"I give because it pleases me," Holden stated. "Come on. This has been there in the room, just begging to be christened, for at least a half hour. And no looks of panic," he chastised, taking Yves' hand and tugging him along like a recalcitrant puppy. "I won't use it all the time, but it's just so fucking sexy," he said, seemingly more to himself than to Yves, who dutifully came along one step behind.

Once inside the training room, Yves' hyper-alert gaze was drawn to the back of the room near a bank of mirrors where a black leather contraption gleamed, suspended from the ceiling by a substantial hook. It had buckles at the four corners, looking for all the world like a swing, but one you'd not be getting out of until whomever had strapped you in it was finished with you. Yves' former masters had restrained him in the past, but never to pleasurable ends. He tried to control his breathing as they strode up to it, vigilantly gauging Holden's body language in order to establish how to react. He'd not even thought to do that in months; he'd become complacent and spontaneous. Though he did genuinely love his master, Yves was still his slave, and it was his job to please Holden whenever he wished it.

"This," Holden said reverently, caressing the curved seat of the new apparatus as though it were Yves' ass, "is a suspension sling. You would be cradled in it, and the leather is soft as butter. Here. Feel it," he insisted, taking Yves' wrist and guiding his fingers to glide across the supple surface. "The restraints, obviously," he continued as he pointed at the wide leather bands replete with silver buckles and multiple holes. "They can be adjusted for each person. It's really quite comfortable, and totally safe. The installer assured me that it can hold up to four hundred pounds safely— not that I'd ever need to worry about that," he said with an impish smile Yves couldn't help but return.

Holden looked at Yves expectantly.

"Yes, master?"

"Well?" Holden was fidgeting, he was so excited. "What do you think? Don't you want to try it?"

"If you'd like me to, master," Yves replied automatically. He was honestly baffled about its intended purpose: was it to punish, or reward, or both? Evidently his confusion was stamped on his face, because Holden said, "You look puzzled. Talk to me, sweetheart."

Holden actively demanded precious little, but honesty was one such element, so Yves grudgingly said, "I don't understand what it's for. Wouldn't you be pleasuring whomever's in it? Or would you…" He suddenly shivered. His mind had gone to a variety of ways the sling could be used for punishment, including strapping someone in it, naked, of course, and leaving him there.

"Yves," Holden said firmly but with tenderness. "Anything in here can be used for punishment, though I don't often use them for such, do I?"

Yves shook his head and started to look down, but Holden put his fingers under his chin to make sure Yves kept eye contact.

"Only when a slave needs to be disciplined, master."

"That's right. Do you deserve to be disciplined?" he asked.

Yves was about to supply the pat answer of, _"If you believe so, master,"_ but Holden beat him to it. "Sorry, that was a trick question. You don't. You're nearly fucking perfect and my plan for you and this new toy of mine is to put you in it and make you come in half a dozen ways before I let you loose," he crooned, snaking his hand around Yves' waist to knead possessively at his ass.

"A half dozen?" Yves said, his voice cracking even as his cock began to show definite interest in the proceedings.

"Well, at least once apiece. I do have a damn three o'clock meeting, but that still gives me plenty of time to strap you in and give you a ride on my cock."

Yves' mouth watered and blood coursed to his hardening erection. It continually amazed him that Holden was so besotted with him, and had seemed to make it his personal crusade to keep Yves well fucked, ensuring Yves' climax every time— at least once, as he'd said.

"I heartily endorse that idea, master," Yves said breathlessly.

Holden laughed, a low rumbling sound that sent lust frissoning down Yves' spine. "I'm glad you do. Take your tunic off and sit in the sling, beautiful."

Yves did as bidden, noticing that Holden had thoughtfully turned the heat on in the room earlier so they wouldn't be cold. The feel of the leather against his skin was a titillating as his master's purposefully crass speech. He reveled in seeing Holden's own tunic tenting underneath his belt, the arousal jutting out just as Yves' was, exposed and twitching to one side as Yves raised his arms and spread his legs. Holden kept up a litany of quiet appreciation and filthy descriptions of what he was going to do, which made Yves' cock ache.

"Do you feel secure, sweetheart?" Holden asked once Yves' wrists and ankles had been belted to the sling.

"Yes, master," Yves said, hearing a burr to his voice that only appeared when he was desperate to be touched; he was famished for his master's cock, or tongue, or fingers that played Yves' body with the skill of a virtuoso.

"You're really getting off on this, being spread out for me and at my mercy, a feast of delights," Holden husked, shedding his tunic and making short work of getting rid of his shoes and socks.

Yves knew his chest was flushed; beads of perspiration tickled his temples as he sat, cradled and exposed in front of Holden. Yves was wanton, begging silently to be fucked. Hard.

"Where's my damn lube?" Holden muttered to himself, giving the swing a gentle push before rummaging through a small bag tied to his belt.

Yves let out a gasp as he swayed gently back and forth, the leather creaking as he settled deeper into the swing. He let his imagination run amok through myriad possibilities of creative sex while held somewhat immobile in this new 'toy.' A vision of Holden standing between his legs, his hand buried in Yves' body to the wrist or a bit further caused Yves' heart to pound against his ribs. He wouldn't dream to suggest such a provocative and physically demanding act like that today, but it was a tantalizing fantasy to tuck away for the future.

"Finally!" Holden said, brandishing the vial of lubricant and fixing Yves with a look that reminded him of a cat with a cornered bird. He slicked his hard shaft until it glistened, then approached Yves, a predatory smile on his lips. He leaned in to kiss him hungrily, one hand flicking at the hard nubs on Yves' chest, the other combing through the wiry hair at his groin before stroking the root of Yves' cock.

"I want you to be as loud as you want," the master breathed against Yves' lips before nipping at them. Yves kissed back with fervor, stretching up from his restraints to try and kiss Holden as deeply as possible. "You may speak freely. Talk dirty, scream obscenities, tell me how great a lover I am," he said with a slow-burning smile.

"Master?" Yves gasped into Holden's mouth.

"Mmmm?"

"I want you so much," he said, trying fruitlessly to grind against Holden's inspiring erection, the skin pulled down from the rosy domed top. "Need you in me, want to feel you fucking me so deep. I'm yours, gods. I want to see your face when you come." He was babbling, the last words faded away to a hoarse whisper.

"You sybarite. Yes, I've been learning some new vocabulary thanks to you," Holden said, pressing two fingers into Yves with a look that dared him to keep from coming right then. "Next time I'll blindfold you, but I don't want to take my hands off of you now to go get one," he rumbled, sliding his slicked fingers in and out. Yves consciously relaxed his inner muscles, anticipating the sweet burn of his master's cock, soon to plough into him until he was taken to the point of ecstasy. He whimpered when Holden kept using just his fingers, wriggling as much as he could to try and force them in further.

Holden shook his head, withdrawing the digits. He used his forearm to move some of his damp, black hair off of his forehead, regarding Yves as though he were ravenous or sex-starved and not at all like a man who'd been given both a blowjob and had fucked Yves vigorously the night before. He poured a bit more oil on his other hand and enclosed Yves' straining prick, easing the skin up and down so that Yves groaned with pleasure.

"Fuck me, master, please," he said piteously.

Holden swirled his thumb over the head of Yves' cock and gently tugged at the slit until Yves let out a keening, broken sound.

"Right," Holden growled, leaning forward to swallow the tip of Yves' erection in his mouth, sucking and bobbing his head once, twice, a third time as Yves thrashed to the best of his limited abilities.

"Master"

There was a pop as Holden released his prize and Yves' cock slapped back against his belly. Holden took himself in hand, pressed against the tight ring and shoved. Yves let out a wordless moan of gratitude, the familiar heat blossoming deep in his gut as Holden used Yves' hips for leverage. Yves found himself rocked back and forth on the steely shaft as Holden stood still.

"Feels so fucking good," Holden grunted, changing his angle to hit the particularly sensitive nerves in Yves' channel. "Love seeing you riding my cock, want you to come on my cock without me touching you," he said, his brown eyes dilated with his passion as he slammed into Yves again and again.

Holden's voice was an electric current, perfectly attuned to Yves' body's demands. His orgasm started as a tingling on the soles of his feet, shooting up his thighs to pause in his drawn-up sacs before being wrenched out of his cock. He shouted into the room, punctuated 'ah's huffed out of his mouth as his muscles spasmed and he jerked in his restraints. His belly was covered in white stripes, the endorphins zinging so wildly in him that he almost didn't pay attention to his master's last few erratic thrusts before his release. Yves felt Holden's cock pulsing deep inside him, savoring Holden's bracing grip on his hips as his face contorted in the unflattering but beloved mixture of a blissful grimace.

A few moments passed as they both caught their breath, and then Holden gave Yves a lazy, contented smile. He moved his hands from Yves' hipbones to the sling and slowly pushed it away so he could ease out of Yves' body. Yves glowed with satisfaction, his ass pleasantly sore, his legs still spread wide and Holden's come seeping from him.

"You're a vision," Holden said. "Freshly fucked is such a good look for you. I'll never get tired of it."

Instinctively Yves went to wrap his arms around his lover, but of course, the gesture was futile.

"I'll just get you out of those, sweetheart," Holden cooed, unbuckling first Yves' wrists and then his ankles, helping him out of the sling until they stood face to face. "I take it you enjoyed yourself?"

"Oh yes, master," Yves replied, holding on to Holden's arms for support since his legs were still on the rubbery side.

"Well, I can't let my darling slave have all the fun," Holden said, smirking. "Some time when you least expect it, I'll summon you here and demand very, very nicely that you assist me in breaking in the sling a bit more."

Sliding his arms around Holden's waist, Yves kissed him, long and deep. "I'll be happy to, of course," he said provocatively. "If you were to ask my opinion, you've made a wise investment."

Holden ran his hands through Yves' hair, fixing him with a look of pure adoration.

"I always do."  



End file.
